MY OLD HOME

It was not too long ago, at least it seems to me, that my brother, the neighborhood kids and I were playing loud, dangerous games of baseball in the back yard of my old homeplace in Fairfield, Illinois.  

When standing in that yard, I can almost hear the shouts and the laughter, the fights and the makeups that went on there.  

All things change, though.  Every curtain falls, every story has its end as Susan Cowsill sings in one of her songs from the album "Lighthouse," and yes, this is a disguised post to get you to order her album...

But really, I wanted you all to see where I came from, where I played and cried and where my soul still resides.

We are wanting to sell the house.  It has taken awhile after the deaths of our parents, to get to the point where we were ready, but we just had the inside repainted and are getting the shutters painted which should be ready to be hung back up this week, we have lovingly pruned, cut, mowed, dug, sweated and bled making the yard ready for the next people who will love our old house.  

The house sits on a quaint little lane with a beautiful yard.  The mimosa trees are in bloom, the lilies, the yucca plant, everything is teeming with life.  Now the house just needs an occupant to put their own personal touches on it to make it their own, so when we drive by, instead of feeling sadness, my brother and I might be able to see life there and feel gratitude and contentment.   We are now ready for that to happen.  


Following are some pictures I took while I was down there this past week.